


Bitter Pill

by RomaNatty



Series: The Adventures of Nataline "Nat" Hawke [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomaNatty/pseuds/RomaNatty
Summary: The Tevinter Slavers catch up to Fenris and he brings Hawke along to confront the one who sent them: Denarius’s apprentice, Hadriana.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a rewrite of the Bitter Pill quest, as well as whatever comes after.
> 
> A few liberties taken include: more than three companions present, bonus bit added to the fight against Hadriana, and some dialogue isn’t 100% verbatim.
> 
> Most of my earlier fics trace back to the events in this one, but reading them is not a necessity. Apples might be a good call to read, though.

It was a peaceful day at first. Weather-wise, it didn’t rain and it wasn’t too hot. No one had any new missions or needed help from Hawke otherwise. Taking advantage of that freedom, Hawke took her friends out for a little fun.

Unfortunately, Aveline had to work, so she could not be bothered with spending a lazy day with Hawke. Merrill declined as well, too excited on starting her reconstruction of the mirror with the tool she got from Keeper Merathari. 

Hawke happily shanghai’d Fenris, Anders, Isabela, and Varric instead and took them for a walk on the mountainsides. It was one of her favorite places to be, despite the names and the occasional bandit camps. She walked arm-in-arm with Isabela on one side and Fenris on the other while they chatted. Anders walked beside Isabela and Varric by Fenris.

“I shit you not, Rivaini, it was this big!” Varric spread his hands out to show her. Isabela was eyeing him skeptically.

“There’s no way. Impossible! I’ve had hundreds of those in my hands, and they’re never that size.” She shook her head.

“Would I lie about something so critical?”

“I can’t stand it anymore—what are you two talking about?” Anders finally asked, amused.

“We’re discussing knives, of course. Well, daggers, technically. I never remember the difference.” Varric answered, shrugging. “Why? What did you think we were talking about?” Isabela snickered.

“Nothing, nothing.” Anders waved him off, chuckling. “Hey, so about our last conversation: how about boiling in oil?”

“ Too prosaic.” Varric shook his head. “How about trapped in a cave with hungry bears, right at the spring thaw?”

“That’s letting him off too easily!” Anders thought for a moment, then clapped his hands. “Dipped in molten gold and left as a statue in the Viscount’s Keep.”

“Ooh. That’s poetic!” Varric approved.

“What are you two talking about now?” Hawke asked.

“What to do to Bartrand when I find him.” Varric answered offhandedly.

“Any suggestions?” Anders asked. Hawke shook her head, but Isabela gave some of her ideas. Fenris was quiet for most of the walk, sometimes playing with Hawke’s fingers and looking thoughtfully at the ground while everyone else prattled on. While Anders and Isabela exchanged murder plots, Varric glanced up at the elf.

“Is brooding a sport in Tevinter? Do they hold competitions? Hand out trophies for the best scowls?” He nudged Fenris, who jerked his head up from the ground and down toward the dwarf.

“I’m not ‘brooding’.” He frowned.

“Moping, then. You seem like you’re a champion at it.”

“I’m perfectly content at the moment.” 

“Oh, so that’s you smiling? Glad you clarified.” Varric snorted.

“Come on, Varric. This is supposed to be a friendly walk.” Nat said reproachfully.

“All right, I was only kidding.” The dwarf smiled, still easy-going. “So what do you do in that gigantic house of yours, elf?”

“Dance, of course.” Fenris replied blankly. Varric blinked.

“Really?”

“I run from room to room, choreographing routines.” He said that so seriously, the dwarf’s jaw dropped a little. After a moment of stunned silence, Fenris smirked.

“You’re actually joking.” Varric huffed in surprise, throwing his arms up in the air. “Alert the Chantry! They need to put this on the calendar!”

“And you thought I was only serious.” the elf crossed his arms smugly.

“That’s a really interesting mental picture.” Isabela mused. “I imagine you’re pretty bendy, since you’re an elf. You probably dance impressively.”

“How would you know if elves were bendy?” Hawke asked her.

“I’ve gotten around.”

“I’ll bet you have.” Fenris muttered, making Hawke snicker a little. “But no, I was never taught to dance.”

“Aww, that’s a shame.” Isabela pouted. “Maybe Hawke could teach you. She loves to dance.” Fenris glanced down at the now-blushing mage.

“Just because I’m lively when a bard visits the Hanged Man, it doesn’t mean I’m any good at dancing, thank you very much.” Nat nudged the pirate in the side, who laughed and patted her arm.

“I never said to teach him good moves, but it might be fun to dance with someone someday.” Isabela pointed out.

“Someday…” Fenris agreed softly, not meeting Hawke’s eyes now but going back to playing with her hand. Unwillingly, a little electric pulse came out of her fingertips as her heart picked up the pace. He smiled down at the reaction a little.

“I’d hate to interrupt, but are you guys seeing this?” Anders spoke up finally, staring straight ahead. Everyone looked to see a line of people blocking the rest of the way, all wielding weapons.

“Bandits?” Hawke asked. Varric squinted at them.

“No… bandits don’t normally confront us head-on, not unless we’ve spooked them.” He muttered. Fenris suddenly went rigid and let go of Hawke to reach for his sword.

“Hunters.” He growled. It took a moment for Hawke to register what that meant before they heard a different voice.

“Stop where you are!” The five of them looked up toward the voice. There was a soldier on the cliff above them with a man in mage robes standing beside him. They both had a dragon insignia sewn or imprinted into their armor. “You are in possession of stolen property! Back away from the slave now and you’ll be spared!” The soldier bellowed to them. Fenris was about to yell back when Hawke cut in.

“Fenris is a free man now!” she replied angrily. The others made sounds of agreement, weapons drawn already. Nat had a small flame or two already on her arm as she pulled out her staff.

“I will not repeat myself again!” The man yelled down at them. “Back away from the slave now!”

“I am not your slave!!” Fenris finally shouted, his markings flaring up brightly. Before the two on the cliff could react, Hawke shot a fireball at them and set their clothes on fire. The army of slavers blocking their path began to attack. Isabela and Fenris ran at them, slashing them down quickly. Anders dispelled any enemy magic and helped Hawke fight the soldier and mage from the cliff, who came down to fight properly. She knocked the mage out and took the soldier out quickly before focusing on another group of slavers that were trying to box the group in. Varric provided a volley of arrows wherever it was needed.

When the slavers were all dead, Fenris walked over to the mage that Nat knocked out. He grabbed the man by the hair and yanked his face off of the ground.

“Where is he?”

“P-Please, don’t kill me!” The mage pleaded. Fenris slammed his face into the ground and back up again.

“Tell me!” he shouted.

“I don’t know! I don’t know, I swear!” the man whimpered. “Hadriana brought us. She’s up in the Holding Caves, north of the city. I-I can show you the way–!”

“No need. I know which ones you’re talking about.”

“Th-then let me go. Please, i beg you! I swear I wo–”

“You’ve chosen the wrong master.” Fenris snapped the man’s neck and stood back up, shaking a little. He gritted his teeth and growled the name between them. “Hadriana…” The word tasted bitter in his mouth. As Hawke and the other made their way over to him, he kicked the dead soldier. “I was a fool to think that I was free! They’ll never let me be!”

“Do you know this person?” Hawke asked.

“My former master’s apprentice. I remember her well.” He scowled. “A sniveling social climber who would sell her own children if she thought it would please Denarius. If she’s here, it’s at his bidding. I knew he wouldn’t let this go!” Hawke watched him as he ranted, frowning at how angry he got the more he talked about her. Even talking about Denarius didn’t invoke as much rage as the mere mention of Hadriana did.

“Looks like we have some hunting to do, then.” she tried to keep her voice light, hoping it would relax him. He reacted positively, nodding in agreement, but did not loosen up or scowl any less.

“We need to get to the Holding Caves before she has a chance to prepare, or flee.” Fenris walked past Hawke and back towards the path they took, not bothering to check if the others were following him.

“There goes our pleasant walk in the mountains.” Anders muttered, but he looked just as concerned as Hawke did; they all did. What kind of person was she to Fenris to cause such hatred? They ran to catch up to him, uncertain of where this path will take them next.

~*~*~

The holding caves were halfway up the path to Sundermount, meaning they went in the opposite direction. They also did not talk on the way, all good humor lost. The trek down the mountain and back up was boring, long, and tiring for everyone. Except for Fenris, it seemed. He was focused and determined to reach the caves, his whole expression screaming ‘murder’. Even Varric could not find the words to loosen the tension within the group.

They knew they reached their destination when a group of slavers suddenly attacked them. Fenris made quick work of them, side-sweeping the soldiers and slicing through them with his sword as well as his hands. Isabela ran ahead to investigate and found more further up the path. She confused and took down the soldiers while Varric and Hawke shot down archers. Anders kept one or two mages busy until Isabela could incapacitate them. Fenris could not be bothered unless they were in his way; he was more concerned with carving a path than caring about being flanked.

Once the way was clear, they walked up to the mouth of the cave. They saw a faint light inside, meaning inhabitants.

“There were many such holdings once, where individual slavers kept private pens. Especially in the mountains.” Fenris spoke for the first time in hours. “They were designed to protect against enemy raids by fellow slavers.” He snorted humorlessly. “No doubt why Hadriana chose this place. We must be careful.”

“Do slavers attack each other often?” Hawke wondered.

“What better way to find slaves than to steal them?” He asked rhetorically. “The ones in Tevinter have mostly been abandoned, but they still exist.”

“Well, maybe she just wanted to redecorate. Add a few flowers.” Nat half-smiled. Fenris looked at her from the corner of his eye, glaring a little.

“She’s not a ‘flowers’ kind of woman.” he bluntly replied. She frowned and looked away. The elf gestured for her to go first and she shuffled into the cave. “Let’s hope this isn’t a waste of time.” He added, his voice bouncing off the cave walls slightly. The others followed the two and their footsteps shifted rocks that crackled and echoed.

The cave opened up at a dimly lit dungeon. There was a river of lava along the wall and a narrow corridor lined with stone bricks. The corridor went straight and off to the side. The team decided to try the straight path first, which ended up being a huge mistake. When they opened the door, the first thing they saw was a table in the center of a room. There was a body on it, mangled and bloody.

“See for yourself– the legacy of the magisters!” Fenris declared bitterly, walking into the room.

“Blood magic…” Anders breathed, staring at the display with wide eyes.

“They kill slaves and use them for their blood?” Isabela asked, horrified.

“In a society where mages rule, they find many ways to justify their need for power.” Fenris stared down at the body with disgust before turning away. There was another door up ahead that they went through. There was a small four-way hall where three of the doors were locked. The fourth door led to another, wider hallway. 

Slavers were waiting for them and charged, but ended up knocked back quickly by Fenris and Hawke’s fireballs kept them distracted while Isabela and Varric tried to sneak behind them. However, they were met with skeletons and a sudden wall of flame. Once the room was cleared, the fire was gone. Varric determined it was a set of pressure plates that the skeletons stood on.

“They often booby trapped these caves to discourage escape attempts.” Fenris grimly pointed out. Isabela started laughing and everyone looked at her.

“You said ‘trapped’!” She giggled. Hawke and Varric snorted a bit and Anders looked confused. “What? Did you think I was going to say something dirty?” She teased him. Fenris was unamused; he rolled his eyes and walked ahead.

“Anyway, just be careful and watch the ground.”

The end of another long hallway led to a seemingly empty room. Fenris took a cautious step inside and heard a soft click sound. Hawke managed to yank him back by the back of his chestpiece just as a burst of flame went past the door.

“What was that about being careful?” she grimaced. He shook her hand off as Isabela and Varric ran past them into the room. The slavers swarmed them in the small room, pressure plates in every corner. Someone was probably waiting for the intruder to show up at the door to press it. There was one mage who teleported around, catching the five of them by surprise until Hawke shot him down with a bolt of ice.

“This place is like a maze all by itself.” Varric grumbled as they stepped into another hallway.

“The magisters set up this system so any who escaped would get lost.” Fenris told them grimly.

“It’s about as convoluted as Kirkwall itself.” Hawke mumbled.

They walked up a flight of stairs and to a door, which opened into a large room. The only source of light was from the glass opening in the ceiling. Over on one side was a barred-off area that looked like a jail, several skeletons lying on cots. There were slave sigils on the walls as well, similar to the golden statues at the Gallows. In one corner, there was a group of slavers gathered close together. They didn’t notice them at first, but someone in the group did.

“Please! For the love of mercy, help me!” A female cry of help came. Some slavers turned around and saw them walk in. They cried out and ran to attack. When the soldiers ran at them, Hawke could see an elven woman cowering in the corner. Once the slavers were dealt with, Fenris ran over to the woman.

“Are you hurt? Did they touch you?” He asked grimly. Hawke helped her up gently. She was shaking and clung to her.

“They’ve been killing everyone! They cut papa, bled him!” she cried. Hawke tried to soothe her, rubbing her arms gently. Fenris frowned deeply.

“Why? Why would they do this?” He muttered.

“There’s a demon at work. By this point, there might not be anything human left inside.” Anders said grimly.

“The magister… she said she needed power, that someone was coming to kill her.” The elf girl continued. Fenris looked down, his eyebrows furrowed. “We tried to be good! We did everything we were told! She loved papa’s soup.” She whimpered. “I don’t understand…”

“Is the magister still here?” Hawke asked the girl gently.

“I… think so.” She murmured. “She said that we were to prepare for battle. I think she’s very frightened!”

“She has every reason to be.” Fenris snapped, looking up from the ground. Nat frowned at him over the girl’s shoulder as she jumped a little from the sudden exclamation.

“Please don’t hurt her! She’ll be so angry if you hurt her.” The girl whimpered. Hawke patted her back.

“This has been so terrible for you.”

“Everything was fine until today!” She wept.

“It wasn’t… you just didn’t know any better.” Fenris sighed, closing his eyes. Once the girl calmed down a little, she wiped her eyes and looked at Fenris.

“Are… are you my master now?” She asked timidly. Fenris’s eyes snapped open in surprise.

“No!” He shook his head.

“But I can cook. I can clean!” She suggested, frowning. “What else will I do?” Fenris did not have an answer to that, but an idea came to Hawke.

“If you go to Kirkwall, I could help you.” she told the girl. Her eyes lit up slightly.

“Yes? Oh praise the Maker!” She sighed in relief. “Thank you!” Hawke smiled back at her and looked over at Isabela.

“Isabela, mind getting her back to Kirkwall in one piece? Tell Mother that I’ll explain when I get home.”

“I’m not your errand girl, Hawke. You owe me a pint when you get back.” Isabela huffed, but took the elf girl’s hand and walked with her back the way they came.

“I didn’t realize you were in the market for a slave.” Fenris glowered, his tone biting. Nat bristled, the corners of her mouth quickly dropping.

“I gave her a job, Fenris.” She crossed her arms over her chest, affronted. “I’ll be paying her whenever I make some coin, just like I pay Bodhan.”

“Ah. Then, that’s good.” The elf replied awkwardly. “My apologies.” She made a hmph sound and turned to walk out of the room. Fenris felt a pang of regret in his chest.

“Very smooth, elf.” Varric shook his head. Fenris decided not to give an answer and instead followed after Hawke with the other two men right behind him. Hawke walked ahead, annoyed and insulted. Her good mood was shot, flames burning up her arms and along her shoulders. At this point, she just wanted the dumb bitch that pissed her elf off to go away.

She nearly kicked down the door that she came to and was almost immediately hit with a barrage of shades and undead. All the way on the other side of the army was a line of slavers, and behind them was a female mage. Hawke felt like she was having a nasty case of deja-vu. 

The woman had black hair and blue eyes. She did not look too special, except for the nasty and cruel smile on her face. It was a faint memory, but one that had haunted her at one point in her life a very long time ago. That same face but much younger, with a shrill and slimy voice to match. “Little Ferelden mutt” she remembered it saying. The rage within her intensified for a different reason now.

“You’ve made a terrible mistake coming here, slave!” Hadriana yelled, looking past Hawke.

“Not as much as you have, witch!” Fenris yelled back at her from the doorway, tattoos flaring with his own deep anger. The slavers charged at them, but Varric filled them full of holes. Anders froze some undead that came close, but his eyes were set on Fenris and Hawke, who were in the bulk of the battle. Fenris cut down any undead that tried to swarm him while Hawke took down the shades.

She killed enough to cut a path to Hadriana and came straight for her. The woman looked nervous, a closer look at her telling Hawke that she had been very frightened of Fenris coming here. It was a slightly satisfying sight, but Hawke had a different one in mind.

As Hadriana raised a hand to curse Nat, she reached out and grabbed the woman’s wrist. The magister froze in surprise and that wasn’t the only thing that froze. Really swiftly, ice crept up Hadriana’s wrist and encased her whole hand. Her eyes widened and it was Hawke’s turn to smile terribly.

“Who is being the brat now, Hadriana?” she asked sarcastically. Hadriana stared at her in surprise, then sheer anger and familiarity.

“You!” She growled. Before she could say anything else, Hawke let her hand go to turn and kick out her leg. The crystalized hand got caught between her boot and the wall, shattering to pieces. Hadriana screamed in pain and anger. Hawke smiled to herself and leapt out of the magister’s line of fire, satisfied at her own brand of poetic justice. She focused her attention on the remaining undead while Fenris passed her and began to fight Hadriana himself.

He did not see what Hawke had done, but he noticed how crippled and angry Hadriana was. Assuming it was from using blood magic, he fought her with all his might and avoided the magic she threw at him. He also kept her from focusing on anyone but him, noticing how she kept trying to shoot magic behind him at his team members. After wearing her down, he backhanded her and she went flying into the wall, dropping her staff. The undead and shades also dropped and disappeared without the proper magical conduction.

Hawke, Varric, and Anders relaxed and stood back to watch as Fenris moved in on Hadriana to deliver the final blow. He raised his sword over his head.

“Stop!” She shrieked. “You do not want me dead!”

“There is only one person I want dead more.” Fenris snarled.

“I have information, elf, and I will trade it in return for my life!” she pleaded. He scoffed in response.

“The location of Denarius? I’d rather he lose his pet pupil.” She swallowed a little and shook her head, not taking her eyes off of her executioner.

“You have a sister. She is alive.”

Fenris started and stared down at her in disbelief. Hadriana slowly sat up.

“You wish to reclaim your life? Let me go, and I will tell you where she is.” Fenris lowered his sword. Hawke slowly walked over to them, eyeing Hadriana. She didn’t see a sign of a lie on the woman’s face, and neither did Fenris. The elf stood back on his heels and thought about it, his eyebrows creasing.

“Do you believe her?” Nat asked him gently. Fenris let out a breath.

“I’m… not sure what to believe anymore.” Nat glanced back at the others, but they looked just as skeptical and confused. She then looked at Hadriana again. The woman met her gaze and glowered at her almost knowingly, as if expecting for Nat to know the answer.

Hawke was certain she had encountered Hadriana before– the mage recognized her more than Hawke did– but how they had met was a mystery to her. Whatever it was, they fought and Hawke fled. Whatever the case, Hadriana was a nuisance and had to be handled, but if it cost Fenris information about his sister…

“This is your call.” Hawke finally said. Fenris nodded slowly and bent down before Hadriana.

“S-so I have your word? I tell you and you let me go?” She asked shakily.

“Yes. You have my word.” Fenris answered curtly. The magister looked relieved.

“Her name is Varania. She is in Quarinus serving a magister by the name of Ahriman.”

“A servant. Not a slave.” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

“She is not a slave.” Hadriana agreed. Fenris nodded again.

“I believe you.” His markings flared up and he raised his hand slightly. Hadriana’s expression changed to a horrified one and, before she could say anything, Fenris reached into her and crushed her heart. She crumpled and he slid his hand back out as she fell. He straightened up and turned to walk toward the door, expressionless.

“We’re done here.” He told the group. Hawke stood in place, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at the ragdoll remains of Hadriana. Without looking at Fenris, she spoke up.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fenris stopped and huffed in anger.

“No! I don’t want to ‘talk about it’!” He snapped, pacing back toward Hawke. She turned her head to watch him. “This could be a trap! Denarius could’ve sent her here to tell me about this ‘sister’.” His movements got more frantic. “Even if he didn’t, trying to find her would still be suicide! Denarius has to know about her and has to know that Hadriana knows!” He paused to glare down at Hadriana and shook his head.

“But all that matters is that I finally got crush this bitch’s heart. May she rot, and all the other mages with her.” His voice cracked a little in his anger.

“And here I thought you were unreasonable.” Anders lamented sarcastically. Varric hushed him, but Fenris pretended he didn’t hear him. Hawke reached out to touch his arm.

“Maybe we should leave…” He shook her hand off.

“Don’t comfort me!” He snapped at her, turning away for a moment. “You saw what was done here. There will always be some reason, some excuse why mages need to do this. Even if I did find my sister, who knows what the magisters have done to her.” He turned back to look at Hawke scornfully. “What has magic touched that it doesn’t spoil?”

Hawke felt like she was just punched in the stomach. Varric let out a hiss of sympathy for his friend and Anders just stared at the elf in utter disbelief. There was a tense silence, only broken by the echoes of the tomb they were in. Fenris refused to meet the girl’s eyes.

“I… need to go.” He finally said, walking past Hawke and out the opening that was in the room. Hawke didn’t make a move to stop him, frozen and staring at the spot where he was standing earlier. His words echoed in her head.

“Shame you had to send Isabela out with the slave girl. If anyone was going to beat the crap out of Fenris, it could’ve been her.” Anders grumbled. He and Varric walked over to Hawke’s still figure. The dwarf put a hand on her arm, making her flinch a little.

“You okay, Hawke?” He asked gently. She looked at him for a long moment before she managed a small smile.

“Yeah… I’ll be okay.” she cleared her throat when it came out weak and hoarse.

“Let’s go back to the Hanged Man. Rivaini will be waiting for that pint.” he suggested.

“Yeah, Hawke. Forget what he said; he didn’t know what he was talking about!” Anders said, smiling gently in encouragement. Hawke didn’t respond, instead glancing over at Hadriana. In some childish sense, Nat blamed Hadriana for everything. She knew deep down that Fenris would always have a hard time accepting her, even before Hadriana intervened. When he accepted her little quirk with elemental magic, she hoped it was a step in the right direction. Now this mess happened and the blow was almost personal.

Anders didn’t know it (to Hawke’s knowledge), but Varric certainly did. He knew about those struggles she had with control, things that made her look dangerous and odd. Magic has always been something that is frowned upon and not recommended for the public eye. Nat felt like a freakshow in comparison to the other mages, because she wore it on her very skin without being able to control it.

‘What has magic touched that it doesn’t spoil?’ What indeed if not someone with magic ingrained into her so deeply?

So Varric was not surprised when Hawke walked over to Hadriana and held out her hand. The limp body slowly got covered in ice, crystallizing just as her hand did. When her whole body was coated in it, Hawke used the one force spell that she knew of to lift Hadriana’s body and slam it back down. The ice shattered and the body broke up into tiny pieces. It was poetic; Hadriana looks exactly how Hawke feels inside.

Hawke stared at the pieces for a moment before turning around and going toward the exit quietly. Varric followed her, keeping a hand on her arm. Anders, although surprised, did not ask about what just happened. He walked beside Hawke as well. Despite the company, however, Hawke could not help but feel very alone and very empty.


	2. Bitter Pill Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tevinter Slavers catch up to Fenris and he brings Hawke along to confront the one who sent them: Denarius’s apprentice, Hadriana.

Aveline sighed as she made the walk back to her office, gingerly carrying two mugs of hot coffee. Her guardsmen did not raise any questions, thankfully, but they did sneak curious glances into her office and at her as she passed. She jerked her head at them and they scurried away obediently. When she walked in, one of them closed the door behind her. She set the mugs down before sitting in her chair—one in front of her and one in front of the elf sitting with his forehead pressed to the desk.

“I don’t have anything stronger than this, so you’ll have to suck it up.” Aveline told him when the elf lifted his head enough to eye the mug. Fenris muttered a soft ‘thank you’ in return. “So, I hope you have a reason for charging into the Keep like a madman.” Aveline folded her arms on the desk. Fenris had barged into the keep and ran up the stairs a moment ago, yelling for Aveline. The guards nearly got themselves killed trying to subdue him before she ordered him to go wait for her in her office.

Fenris lifted his head more, refusing to look directly at the redhead. He began to tell the story—what happened on the walk with the others, what happened in the caves, and the things he said. Aveline listened carefully to the story, nodding at times and asking an occasional question. She noticed how distraught he looked—his hands shaking a little and his expression generally upset. It was new to her to see Fenris, who was usually a grumpy asshole that made snarky comments and lived like a hobo, react this way.

“So you fucked up.” Aveline concluded, sipping her coffee. The elf frowned and shifted in his seat.

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly…’

“You got carried away with seeking revenge on this Hadriana girl, so much so that you insulted not only Hawke’s morals but her magical heritage.” She told him bluntly. Fenris’s voice got stuck in his throat and he put his head down on the desk again. “On the bright side, I won’t be the worst at relationships anymore.”

“I didn’t mean to!” He jumped up and began to pace the office. “I was angry! Hadriana coming back was a manifestation of every worry I’ve had for the past three years, save for Denarius actually coming here himself! Now, she tells me of this sister and I didn’t know what to do! I had all these new worries flooding my head at once and all of this rage and anxiety just… came out!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Hawke should’ve understood! I thought, of all people, she’d be able to see how upset I was and… and…” he covered his face with his hands and tried to breath.

“Fenris, sit down and drink. Try to calm down.” Aveline told him. He slowly complied, sinking into his seat and sipping at the hot and bitter coffee. A few moments went by as he relaxed and began to breathe normally. “Now, tell me, do you expect Hawke to be a mind reader?”

“No. I just figured… since we were close…” His voice trailed off.

“Yes, she knows you better than the rest of us. Hell, she knows all of us better than we know each other. That doesn’t mean she’s a genius with the information she has.” Aveline smiled gently. “In fact, she’s just as clueless as you seem to be.” Fenris looked slightly affronted.

“How am I clueless?”

“You claim you know her well because you’re close, but you can’t seem to understand why she was so upset by what you said.”

“I do understand! She was upset that I insulted mages and accused her of wanting that elf girl for a slave!” Fenris protested, but the guard captain shook her head.

“No, you don’t understand, and I’m not at liberty to explain it to you. Which brings me to my next point: you’re sitting here, drinking coffee and talking to  _me_ , instead of going over to talk to her.” Fenris looked down into his mug sadly.

“You were not there, Aveline. You didn’t see the look on her face when I said all those horrible things _._ How could I face her now?”

“I can’t answer that for you, Fenris. All I can say is that you can’t know what happens until you see it for yourself.” On that note, she finished her coffee and led him out of her office, telling him to drop off the mug in the kitchen. He grumbled under his breath as he finished the drink and left the Keep, bemoaning the lack of help from the woman.

Once outside, he sat on the steps of the Keep and thought about what to do next. Getting completely drunk alone at his house was an idea, albeit not a good one. He could get someone else’s advice, but that would be useless. Anders and Isabela would probably yell at him, for one reason or another. Varric would say the same things as Aveline. Merrill wouldn’t be of much help either. Besides, after the fiasco that came of discovering Hawke’s elemental outbursts, he did not feel like jumping through hoops to reach the inevitable confrontation at the end.

His final option is to go talk to Hawke directly. There was only so much he could say that could make things better and, honestly, if he was in Hawke’s shoes he would throw himself out. However, it was worth it to try. The elf heaved a sigh and stood up to walk to the Amell estate. Being kicked out and knowing how Hawke felt about him was infinitely better than avoiding her and never knowing.

The walk was short, no matter how much he dragged his feet. He knocked and waited. It opened seconds later and Fenris looked down to see Bodhan standing there. The dwarf frowned a little.

“Another elf? Gosh, Mistress Hawke sure sends a lot of elves to the house.” Fenris frowned in confusion and entered when the dwarf waved him inside. “That pirate girl was here earlier with an elf woman. She told Mistress Amell that her daughter would explain when she got home.”

“So Hawke isn’t home yet?” Fenris asked. The butler shook his head. Hawke’s mabari, Lex, trotted over to greet the visitor, her whole butt wagging happily.

“No, messere. The pirate said something about having a drink with her, so I assume she’s at the Hanged Man.”

“Do you mind if I wait here for her?” Fenris asked. He was not about to deal with a drunk Isabela and/or Hawke all at once.

“Of course. If you need anything, let me know.” The dwarf bowed and shuffled off. Fenris took a seat on one of the benches in the main hall, thinking about what he should say when Hawke gets home. Lex sat down in front of him and he scratched at her head absentmindedly. It was almost nightfall, hours before he ran off from the group, so he assumed she would return from the bar soon.

As he sat deep in thought, Hawke’s mother Leandra walked to the door with the elf girl at her heels. She started when she saw Fenris sitting there.

“Oh, Fenris dear, I didn’t know you were here.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He stood up politely, but the woman waved him back down.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just showing Orana here around the mansion.” She gestured to the elf girl, who bowed.

“It’s good to see you again. Thank you for saving me earlier.” She smiled gently.

“It’s no trouble. I hope you have a much happier life here.” He smiled a little in return.

“Orana, be a dear and get my coat for me?” Leandra asked her. Orana bowed and went to find the coat closet.

“Are you waiting for Nataline?” She asked. Fenris needed a moment to realize she was talking about Hawke; he had rarely heard her full name be said. She told him it was because she thought it was too long and odd.

“Yes ma’am, I am.”

“Good. When she gets home, tell her I went out to meet with someone and not to wait up.” Orana returned with the coat and Leandra bid them good evening before leaving. Bodahn left him with the dog, probably to go see to his son Sandal. Lex stared up at him with intelligent eyes while Fenris idly petted her head. He always found mabari to be a fascinating breed, very loyal and resourceful.

He tried to think about what to say, how best to explain himself. The dog left after a while and was no help. He leaned his forehead against his hands and a million different excuses and apologies just swirled in his head, none of them coming close to describing how horribly he felt.

“Fen?” His head jerked up to see Hawke in the doorway; he hadn’t even heard it open.

“Hawke.” He sat up straight and stood up, trying to collect his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking about what happened with Hadriana.” She closed the door behind her and looked at him curiously, but also sadly. It made him falter slightly, but he took a deep breath and continued. “I took out my anger on you, undeservedly so. I was… not myself.” he glanced away. “I’m sorry, Hawke.”

“I had no idea where you went. I was concerned.” She frowned at him. “You weren’t at your home and after the things you said… I thought you had left.”

“I needed to be alone, that’s all.” Fenris shook his head a little, feeling another pang of guilt from her words. “It’s hard for me to find the right words to apologize to you without it sounding like some petty excuse.”

“Well, telling me what happened back there would be a good place to start.” Nat crossed her arms a bit, her face guarded under all of her worry. He nodded and thought on that, looking away again.

“When I was still a slave… Hadriana was a torment. She would ridicule me, deny my meals, hound my sleep.” Fenris clenched and unclenched his fists, the memories of that time making his blood boil. “Because of her status, I was powerless to respond and she knew it.” He turned back to look at Hawke. “The thought of her slipping out of my grasp now… I couldn’t let her go, as much as I wanted to.”

“What do you mean?” Hawke asked softly. He looked at her for a moment, her sincere eyes as she listened and yet the remnants of hurt still radiating off of her. She smiled the tiniest smile, but there was no electricity as usual. He never noticed how much darker the room was without it.

“I know I should be happy that Hadriana is dead. Instead, I feel nothing but… disquiet.” He closed his eyes. “This  _hate_ … I thought I had gotten away from it, but it dogs me no matter where I go. Now it has hurt you, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you pain.” His eyes opened again to look into hers. “To feel it again, to know that it was they who planted it inside me… it’s too much to bear.”

“Fen…” she started to speak, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t come here to burden you further. I only wanted to apologize, but you deserve so much better than what my words can offer. I’ll just show myself out.” He began to walk past her to the door when a hand wrapped around his arm, at the crook of his elbow.

“You don’t have to leave, Fen.” She murmured, but the shot of pain up his arm made his mind go blank for a moment. Fenris yanked his arm forward and sent Hawke into the door with a  _smack_. The wood trembled under the force. The elf stood towering slightly over the girl, his hands on either side of her, while they stared wordlessly at one another. What surprised Fenris most was that Hawke didn’t seem frightened or angry at him. In fact, after the initial shock wore off, she smiled.

Fenris tried to apologize again, but was cut off when Hawke leaned up and kissed him. There was a small tickle on his lower lip from her electric charge that unfroze him and allowed his eyes to slide shut to deepen the kiss. He felt her arms slide around his neck and lean up a little more, her nose grazing his cheek when she tilted her head. He felt flyaway electric pulses from her arms on the back of his neck as well, but it didn’t make him want to pull away and laugh like he had when they first kissed. This gave him a different feeling; an elated feeling, like he was flying.

Hawke suddenly twisted him around and Fenris felt his back bump into the wall, breaking apart for a moment before kissing more. His arms pressed her close to him once he didn’t have a wall to lean them against. She made the slightest little humming sound as she tightened her hold in his neck and it sent a shiver through his body. The elf let her keep control, not knowing how to kiss himself. He tried to tilt his head in the other direction and she followed his lead, switching her focus from the lower to the upper lip.

By accident, the tip of the girl’s tongue grazed his lip and sent a charge right through it. It didn’t hurt, but it surprised him enough to accidentally graze her with his teeth, nipping her lower lip. They both pulled back from the shock and stood there, catching their breath and silently looking at each other again. They were both very red in the face and held each other slightly nervously for a moment, although neither had the intention of letting go. There was a certain tension in the air, caused by a different type of electricity.

Fenris could not think of anything to say– although, he did remember one thing he had to tell Hawke.

“So, before I forget” He began, his voice husky until he cleared it. “You mother said that she would be out for the night and not to wait up.” Nat stared at him blankly for a long time before her lips slowly curled into a smile and she began to laugh. He smiled gently back, loving the long-awaited sound that he hadn’t heard since the walk up the mountain.

“Mistress Hawke?” They suddenly froze and then jumped apart as Bodahn walked into the hallway. “Ah, you’ve returned!”

“Hi Bodahn! Any, um, problems around here?” Nat asked, her heart hammering in her chest and trying to hide the electric pulses dancing all over her. Fenris could see them on her back and tried to keep a straight face.

“No, messere. All is quiet around here. Mistress Amell went to go meet with someone, though, and said she will be gone for most of the night.”

“So I have heard.” Nat smirked a little and Fenris couldn’t keep from snickering a tad.

“But, er, there’s an elven woman here that claims she was sent by you…?”

“Oh, yes, she’ll be working here now. Be sure to teach her what you know and let her know to receive her payment when you do.”

“Understood. Is there anything you and messere Fenris need?” He asked politely.

“No, no, thank you. We’ll just be up in my room. Make sure no one disturbs us, yes?” The butler agreed without question and left again. Fenris felt a little more nervous at the implication in Hawke’s words, but when she turned to smile at him, he felt like flying again.

**_~*~*~_ **

That night was unlike any other, for either Hawke’s memories or Fenris’s. The girl tried to make their trip to her bedroom inconspicuous, walking slowly and not looking at him, but her little excited sparks gave her away– to the elf, at least. When they got there, the kisses started up again before they could even move to the bed.

The thought of sex had not crossed their minds until they got to that point. After the armor and robes began coming off to allow them to get closer and they got more comfortable on Hawke’s silky Hightown sheets, the electrifying tension– both figuratively and literally in Nat’s case– could not be ignored. Barely a moment passed between their lips finally parting and the growing realization that they were laying back on the bed in their undergarments.

When that happened, there was a momentary pause filled mostly with nervous fidgeting. Fenris had never been with someone sexually; he and Hawke mentioned doing this before, but now that the moment has arrived, he was not sure how to proceed. Hawke was the same way; she had only been with Isabela before, who preferred to lead when it came to sex, so her knowledge extended only as far as her own body (and a lot of Isabela’s body). 

The night was spent with uncertain suggestions on what would make either of them feel good, followed by nervous attempts to do so. Although some movements were rocky and hesitant, each touch and each kiss felt sensual. Nat’s body felt like it was a charged rod where every touch of the elf’s made a tingle go up and down her body. It reminded her of when she realized how much she liked Fen, in the very same room, and she looked like a thunder storm about to happen. There was a constant happy feeling all throughout her body and she used every inch of it to hold her love close to kiss at or touch all over.

Fenris had a similar reaction. Anytime a wave of pleasure swept through him, it was accompanied by his markings pulsing light. It didn’t hurt him; in fact, this was the first time since he could remember that his whole body didn’t ache or any touch didn’t cause pain. Each of Hawke’s touches were gentle and loving.

But there was another effect, and it was becoming troublesome as they went along. There were images that flashed suddenly into his mind, but as quick as they came, they were gone. When he tried to concentrate on one, it slipped away. The more it happened, the more it worried him, but the elf tried his best to ignore it and focus on the woman before him.

Neither of them were sure how many times they reached that peak of pleasure because it all began to just melt into one long euphoric moment, complete with rolling around, kissing and moaning. There was a slow decline and, by then, the couple was completely tired. It was the middle of the night and they dozed off together for a few hours.

Fenris woke up first, laying beside Nat on his back while she laid on her belly. He watched her for a moment– how her shoulders rose and dropped slowly with every breath, her gentle smile from the dream she was having, her bare skin in the dim light with the occasional sliver of energy illuminating her.

“ _That was not a dream.”_ he thought to himself, amazed. He reached over to softly brush at her hair, which was long enough to reach the center of her spine and lay splayed out in all directions on her back. The elated feeling within him had not gone away and he swore that he had never felt so happy before.

But he could not help but pause and think about what had happened during the night. Odd things faded in and out of his mind, going away the moment he tried to think on them. He ignored them at first, but they started becoming more frequent the more his markings’ flashed and the pleasureful feelings increased. They were faces and voices, very faint but also very familiar.

Fenris closed his eyes and tried to think. His hand was still on Hawke’s skin as a small energy pulse brushed against his fingers. Something in his brain started and, for a short moment, he saw what he had missed. Hadriana’s face only younger; a woman who he did not recognize but who looked very similar to him; an older woman that looked at him sadly and the expression made him sad as well; a little girl who he thought was familiar but her face was gone in an instant. The last image was of Denarius, looming over him in a dully lit room, before Fenris’s eyes snapped open and he jerked up with a gasp for air.

Shakily, he slid out of bed and paced over to the fire, trying to calm his breathing. The dull ache in his markings throbbed like he had been punched all over his body. The memories ebbed away slowly, back into whatever dark void he had created in his mind, but he knew what they were. Tears began to form and he stared up to keep them from falling.

“ _I have to leave_.” he decided, reaching for his armor and putting it on. Whatever it was that had happened, he had to get away from it.

“Was it that bad?” He turned to see Nat staring at him, leaning up on her arms. Her partly sleepy eyes were staring up at him and she was frowning just slightly. A part of him wanted to crawl back into the bed and just lay there with her forever, but then the haunting echo of those memories stopped him.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… it was fine.” He croaked in answer, rubbing his eyes. The word ‘fine’ felt wrong on his tongue and he chuckled at himself for that. “No, that is insufficient.” He looked up into her eyes. “It was better than anything I could have dreamed.”

She smiled coyly, blushing and picking at a thread on one of her pillows.

“I need to give you some better dreams.” She mumbled, then noticed that he was still getting dressed. “Is something else wrong, then?”

“I…” He hesitated. “I began to remember. My life before, just… flashes.” He shook his head. “I-It’s too much. This is too fast. I cannot… do this.” Hawke sat up fully now, concerned for the elf.

“Fen, it’s okay, just breath.” She held out her hand for him, but he was too agitated to accept it. “What do you mean, ‘your life before’?”

“I’ve never remembered anything from before the ritual. But now there were… faces. Words.” He explained shakily. “For just a moment, I could recall all of it, and then it slipped away.”

“Well… perhaps if we work on it a little more, they’ll come back permanently.” Hawke tried to stay lighthearted. Fenris smiled weakly and shook his head again.

“Perhaps you don’t understand how  _upsetting_ this is.” He looked into the fire. “To remember anything, have it all come back in a flash, only to lose it? I can’t–” his voice cracked and he had to take a deep trembling breath to steady it. “I can’t.”

“Fen, please. We can work through this.” Hawke pleaded. Fenris looked back at her and felt an ache in his heart. It was so tempting for him to agree and join her and simply forget the world around them. But what kind of relationship would they have if the past kept haunting him anytime there was something good in his life? The slavers who interrupted their walk, the memories that haunted the most wonderful moment of his life, and who knows what else. Hawke did not deserve that in her life. She did not deserve a plague that he carried.

“I’m sorry. I feel like such a fool.” He sighed mournfully and walked over to place a hand on her cheek. No electricity this time, not for a moment like this. “All I wanted was to be happy… just for a little while. If that means you shouldering my burdens, then that is not fair to you.”

“But–” he leaned in and placed a kiss on her forehead, cutting her off.

“Forgive me.” He murmured against her skin before he leaned away and walked out. Hawke watched him go, tears slowly filling her eyes. It was the second time that she had to watch him leave her, but this time probably hurt her the most.

No one was in the main room or hallway to see Fenris leave, but he still held his tears in until he was out the door. He put a hand over his mouth to muffle any sounds, leaning against the door for a moment to gather himself. The sun hadn’t risen yet and everyone was still in bed. Once the door to Hawke’s home was closed, he did the one thing he knew how to do the best.

He ran. And did not look back.


End file.
